


Words and other Weapons

by WhoWhatWhereWhy



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blow Jobs, Declarations Of Love, Fluff and Smut, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Music, Reunion Sex, Sad with a Happy Ending, Self-Indulgent, This is so sappy, Touch-Starved, True Love, i got really invested not gonna lie, lucas plays the piano again, of a sort, relationships are hard people, they love each other so much ok im done, theyre both trying their best really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24219373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhoWhatWhereWhy/pseuds/WhoWhatWhereWhy
Summary: "What if I don't love you anymore?"What do you do when your worst nightmare comes to life? Lucas can't get Eliott's words out of his head, his worst insecurities coming to the surface once again.Or, our boys have a huge fight and some harsh words are said.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Comments: 39
Kudos: 363





	Words and other Weapons

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, this is so entirely self-indulgent  
> This is for me, by me, but i guess you guys can also see it, pls enjoy  
> also PS figuring out how to spell Eliott's name correctly was a whole adventure

“What if I don’t love you anymore?”

Lucas’ stomach seems to cave into itself. Before his mind can fully register the words, tears have filled his eyes and he’s blinking madly, trying to chase them away.

Silence fills the room at a creeping pace as everything sinks in. Eliott just stands there, next to the ratty red couch they’d bought on a whim, and he has the sense to keep quiet.

Lucas can’t look away. Here he is, in their far too small apartment, and he can’t stop looking at Eliott. He squeezes his hands into fists to stop them from trembling and he keeps staring. The silence has now become a burden and Lucas is desperately trying to control his breathing. He wants to move, he wants to get angry but all he can do is press his tongue to the roof of his mouth in an effort to dispel his unravelling sobs for a minute longer.

Then Eliott looks at him.

“Lucas, I—”

He stops short and Lucas realizes it must be because he’s violently shaking his head from side to side. When he closes his eyes in a grab for control, he hears Eliott’s footsteps retreating to the bedroom. He lets himself practically collapse into the couch and buries his hands in his hair.

God, he’d known better.

He’d known better and yet he’d given in. It had been a long day, and he had a headache, and he’d fucked up at work, and he was behind in his school work, and—

He knew Eliott got angry during his depressive episodes. He knew the anger was never truly at him, but rather Eliott was angry at himself and his illness. He knew never to fall into those petty fights, he knew Eliott just wanted to release his pent-up energy somewhere else.

The point is, he does know better.

But then he’d walked in and everything had gone to hell in the blink of an eye. From an offhand comment about Lucas being home late to a mumbled question about Eliott’s pills, it had all escalated so quickly Lucas hadn’t even realized he had to reign it in. They’d both been on their feet in matter of seconds and words were being thrown before thoughts were made.

They’d somehow ended up screaming about Lucille, and Lucas’ fears, the ones embedded so far down he didn’t dare think of them, reared their ugly faces. Their fight had gone to Lucas’ insecurities and had latched itself into his most feared _what ifs._

_“What if I don’t love you anymore?”_

A sob finally rips through Lucas’ body. His hand instantly flies to his mouth in an attempt to muffle his sounds, but he’s shaking like a leaf. His breathing is out of control and the more he tries to calm it down, the more he fears he’ll never breathe again. Each breath is a sob and each sob is a tear in his lungs as he struggles to keep quiet. The words play on repeat in his head and he can no longer stop his hands from trembling.

-

Lucas must’ve fallen asleep on the couch because he’s painfully awakened by his alarm the next morning. He jumps in a fit of panic and fumbles with his phone to get it to shut up. In the renewed silence, he strains to hear any sounds coming from their bedroom, any indication that Eliott has stirred. As he waits, he becomes acutely aware of the raging headache he has woken up with and has to clench his teeth in frustration.

The aspirins are in their room. Even if he hadn’t woken Eliott up with the alarm, he definitely would if he started rummaging through their nightstand. Lucas briefly considers heading to work with his headache, in the hopes it gets better on the way there. Maybe with the fresh air or the sun outside, his headache might just—

He sighs. He knows he’s lying to himself, knows that his headaches are never ones to leave on their own free will, knows he needs the pills. He just _really_ doesn’t want to go into that room right now.

He pushes another long suffering sigh out and gathers his courage.

Eliott’s body is entirely spread out on Lucas’ side of the bed and he’s emitting low grumbling noises as he sleeps. His hair is a mess and his eyes sport deep under circles and he still looks cold even underneath all their comforters. Lucas has to force himself to look away when the memory of the fight comes urging back.

Eliott’s head is positioned right next to the nightstand and Lucas thinks life is fucking with him, because how is he going to do this? He opens the drawer, only to be greeted by Eliott’s notebooks and random scraps of paper and Lucas swear internally. The pills have got to be at the very bottom of that mess and if only the two of them were a little more organized, moments like these wouldn’t happen. Lucas feels familiar anger resurface and he has to reign himself in because this isn’t about drawers and nightstands. He rummages through everything as quietly as he can, but it’s useless because life really does hate him and Eliott’s head jumps up at the noise.

“Lucas, what—”

“Nothing, nothing. Go back to sleep, I’m heading to work.”

Lucas all but runs out of the room. He picks up his bag on the way to the door and is out of the apartment quicker than a dog in fright. Only when he reaches the bus stop does he realize that his head is still pounding and he’s in the same clothes as yesterday.

-

He ends up stopping at a local convenience store to buy some Aspirins before heading into work. The look Carla throws him is the cherry on top of the shitcake that is his day.

“Late, and in the same clothes as yesterday nonetheless? Lucas, I’m a forgiving manager, but there are limits, you know.” There’s a smile playing on her face but Lucas doesn’t notice it.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry. I meant to call but my phone was dead and I really had to stop by the shop to—” Lucas stops short as Carla waves her hand.

“Just don’t let it happen again. Now, I’m heading out,” she points a semi-threatening finger at him, “ I trust you’ll be fine on your own?”

She’s out the door before Lucas has even finished nodding. He kicks his bag off to the side and finally engulfs 5 aspirins at once. She’s not a bad boss and this isn’t a bad gig but Lucas is just in such a shitty mood already that when the first customer walks in, it’s all he can do not to grunt out loud. He watches the girl browse the guitars section before heading to the pianos. She keeps fidgeting with her fingers and is making an evident effort to not look in Lucas’s direction. He finally caves and takes pity on her. He plasters on his customer smile and inhales deeply.

“May I help you?” His voice carries around the small music shop and she visibly startles.

He spends the next half an hour explaining the mechanics of a piano to her before he comes to a realization.

“You know, we host try-out sessions on Saturdays. You can come in, and we’ll show you the basics of playing any instrument, see which one calls out to you,” he nods an encouragement and a small smile forms on the girl’s face, “I think you should try your hand at the drums.”

Her small smile erupts into a grin and Lucas knows he read her right. He hands her the invitation card for Saturday and watches as she practically hops out of the shop.

For a second, Lucas feels good and then he remembers. Eliott’s face, Eliott’s words, Eliott’s hands, Eliott, Eliott, Eliott—

The rest of his shift doesn’t pass over well.

By the end of it, Lucas is jumpy and angry and upset, and he simply can’t go home. He heads to Yann’s on instinct and doesn’t know if he feels better or worse for it.

He wants to see Eliott, he does. It’s been a long day and he wants to see Eliott, wants to tease him and talk with Eliott. He also desperately does _not_ want to see Eliott. He wants to hide out at Yann’s until he doesn’t feel raw anymore, until he can face Eliott without breaking down.

Yann, to his credit, doesn’t ask any questions. One look at Lucas at his front door, he makes coffee and puts a dumb movie to play in the background. They don’t talk much but Lucas feels heard. He ends up procrastinating so much, he has to run to catch the last bus of the night home. It’s well past 1AM when he walks up to their apartment and his heart drops to his feet.

The light is on.

He unlock the front door as quietly as he can, as if it’s going to make a difference, and steps in. He gears himself up to look into Eliott’s eyes, prepares for what’s to come and then— then nothing happens. He chances a look at the couch and he sees Eliot fast asleep on it, his body at an uncomfortable angle, as if he hadn’t expected to fall asleep.

Before he can think better of it, Lucas turns the lights off and heads for the bedroom.

-

This time, he wakes up to his phone vibrating on the nightstand. He’d made sure the night before to turn the sound off, not ready to face Eliott just yet and now he reaches across the bed to shut the alarm off. He’d somehow ended up on Eliott’s side of the bed at some point in the night and he’s now surrounded by his smell. He lets himself lean into it and for a moment lets himself relax.

Shaky breath in, shaky breath out.

He’s blowing this out of proportion, isn’t he?

He checks the time, 6:05AM. Normally, he’d spend a good portion of his morning lazing around, preferably with Eliott in bed. Today, just the thought of his boyfriend has Lucas scrambling to get dressed for class, hurriedly putting whatever notebooks he can find into his bag. He feels like a coward and an asshole for leaving him on the couch but he can’t make himself face him. He tiptoes out of the bedroom and he intends to make a bee line for the door when the sight of the refrigerator door stops him in his tracks.

On it, is the medicine calendar, the one Lucas and Eliott had fought so hard over. Lucas had suggested it as a simple way for Eliott to take his pills on time and for Lucas to know he had. Eliott had taken it as lack of trust, had completely refused “to be monitored, Lucas”. The calendar had made it into the fight and Lucas had wanted to tear his hair out, hearing about it again.

And now, here it was. Hanging on the refrigerator as if it had always been there. Lucas can’t look away for a while and when he does, he ends up staring at Eliott’s sleeping form. Eliott had shifted in his sleep and was now fully sprawled out on his stomach and snoring quietly. Lucas heads into the bedroom and brings back Eliott’s favorite comforter, covers him with it.

_What if I don’t love you anymore?_

Lucas shakes his head and leaves without waking him.

-

He does send Eliott a text, _at school be home late,_ and leaves it at that. He finishes early on Mondays, both he and Eliott know that but Lucas doesn’t want to tell him that he’s going to spend the better part of his day at Yann’s again. He doesn’t want to tell Eliott much right now.

“Not that I’m complaining, but two days in a row, Lucas? What’s going on?”

Lucas knew Yann getting curious was inevitable, but he had hoped he’d have more time to himself.

“Did you invite Basille and Arthur?” When Yann nods, Lucas smiles as brightly as he can at him, “See, that’s why. I haven’t seen you guys in forever, what with uni and the girls. I miss you guys and your idiocies.”

Even though Yann doesn’t seem to buy his bullshit, they’re saved from the conversation when the bell rings. In a matter of seconds, the apartment is filled with noise; from Basille screaming to Arthur trying to kiss Lucas on the cheek, it’s a right mess from the start.

“My, my, Basille would you say Lucas has grown since the last time we saw him? I swear to you, he looks taller, doesn’t he?” Basille, of course, joins Arthur’s shenanigans and soon enough they’re both trying to measure Lucas’ height in beer cans.

The night drags on as Lucas tries his best to enjoy the company of his friends. He tries to listen to their stories, tries to make fun of them as they play video games, but his heart isn’t in it. All he can think of is Eliott. He knows he can’t avoid him forever, that he’s being absolutely ridiculous and he should just head home but the lump in his throat stops him from getting up.

However, Life being the bitch that she is, won’t let Lucas take a break. The evening comes to a close fairly quickly and Lucas has to wonder at his luck. Arthur has a morning shift the next day while Basille is meeting Daphne and her sister for brunch. Both Lucas and Yann have classes and Lucas doesn’t have an excuse to stay behind anymore. He ends up leaving with Arthur and Basille.

When Lucas gets to front door, the lights are on again and he knows he won’t be able to escape for a second night in a roll. He glances at his phone and realizes it’s only 10PM and there really is no way to get out of this. He pushes the door open and resolutely keeps his eyes on the floor as he toes his shoes off. He drops his keys into the bowl, and hangs his jacket and he does not look up until he does and all the air from his lungs seems to forget its function.

Eliott is sitting caved in on the couch and his hair is an absolute disaster, worse than Lucas has ever seen it. He seems to be drowning in his joggings and his eyes are caved in, scarily so. When he looks up, Lucas notes how bloodshot his eyes are. Eliott’s leaning forwards on his knees and his fingers are pulling at each other and his right foot is incessantly tapping the floor.

When Lucas sits next to him, Eliott takes a steady breath in. His right leg doesn’t stop bouncing and Lucas can’t look away from the movement.

_What if I don’t love you anymore?_

“Lucas, fuck— I am so sorry,” Eliott’s voice shakes threateningly and Lucas can see the first few tears roll down, “I am so, so sorry, I—”

“Did you mean it?”

The words are out before Lucas can control them and Eliott’s leg stops moving. A sobs rips out from Eliott, or maybe it’s from Lucas, perhaps it’s both of them.

“God, Lucas no,” Eliott turns towards him, eyes latched onto his very soul, “No, of course I didn’t mean it, baby please—”

Lucas closes his eyes when Eliott’s hand closes around his knee. The pressure is gone as fast as it had appeared. When he opens his eyes, Eliott is staring at his own hand as if it had burned him, tears now freely flowing down his cheeks.

“You didn’t mean it,” Lucas says and he doesn’t know who he’s trying to comfort, Eliott or himself.

Either way, Eliott shakes his head vigorously and now they’re both crying, side by side, each afraid to touch the other.

Lucas doesn’t know how long they stay like that but eventually Eliott stops moving and Lucas chances a hand at his lower back. Eliott startles, but doesn’t move away.

“You should go to sleep, I’ll be there in a minute,” Lucas whispers before adding, “I just have to look over some notes from my lectures.”

Eliott gets up without a word, and neither dares mention that Lucas never studies on the couch, and that Eliott hates falling asleep alone.

-

Lucas doesn’t mean to fall asleep on the couch again. He remembers staring at the wall, he remembers feeling raw, he remembers crying, but he doesn’t remember falling asleep. He wakes up in a panic, which gets worse when he realizes he’s missed his first class of the day. He’s running around the apartment looking for a charger and a new pair of socks before he’s even fully awake. He finds neither but does manage to grab a new hoodie before heading out, following the blind steps of routine.

In the bus, he realizes two things: his phone is dead and he’s wearing Eliott’s hoodie. Lucas is helpless as he leans into the smell, and can’t control how much it grounds him and prepares him for the day. His spirits almost lift when he finds someone to lend him a charger at school and instantly disintegrate when his science lab runs long.

By the end of the day, he wants nothing more than to spread out on the couch and watch a dumb movie to shut his brain up. He stops on the way home to pick up some Chinese and calls Imane for a study date. Honestly, his grades aren’t to get up by themselves and he needs all the help he can get. When he finally gets home, he stops short at Eliott seated at the kitchen table.

“Didn’t you have work tonight?” Lucas scolds himself for the greeting, if he can even call it that. Eliott however seems unfazed.

“Switched shifts with Jonathan.”

The unspoken truth of _you slept on the couch again_ , rings in Lucas’ ears. He nods belatedly and holds up the food containers as a response. A small smile appears on Eliott’s face and he gestures at the table, which is when Lucas notices the food on it.

“Oh,” he should laugh it off, he knows he should, but can’t bring himself to, “I’ll just put these in the fridge then.”

They end up sitting face to face, and Lucas keeps his eyes on his plate, gently nudging the food with his fork.

 _What if I don’t love you anymore_?

Lucas physically shakes his head to push away the thought and accidently scrapes his fork on the plate a little too loud.

“You know I love you more than anything, right?”

Lucas drops his fork.

“Eliott, please don’t—” Lucas practically begs but it’s useless because his voice is already shaking.

“Lucas, I am in love with you,” Eliott doesn’t relent, “Like, completely, uncontrollably in love with you.”

Eliott gets up and kneels next to Lucas’ chair, puts his hands on his thighs, pushes away Lucas’ hair from his face.

“Lucas, you are the love of my life, okay?” Eliott’s hand is on his cheek and he’s wiping away the tears as best he can, “I love you so much, you have no idea.”

Lucas freely sobs into Eliott’s shoulder. The full extent of his pain washes over him all at once, and the weight of it is crumbling. Eliott holds him through it while he whispers quiet _I love you’s_ into his hair and strokes his back.

They wind up in the bedroom, though Lucas has no idea how they get there, and he’s pressing his face into Eliott’s neck. It’s silent now except for their breathing and Eliott’s fingers haven’t stopped tracing patterns along Lucas’s back. He buries himself deeper and finally closes his eyes.

-

Lucas is awakened by a gentle nudge to his shoulder, by a subsequent touch to his lips and a hand through his hair. He smiles into the touch and distantly hears a voice saying something.

“Lucas, you have class in an hour, wake up.”

He groans and moves further into the warmth of Eliott’s body, who in turn laughs and grabs his hair.

“Get up, you have that Greek class you like so much,” Eliott’s voice is muffled and whatever semblance of authority he was going for disappear into the careful kiss he plants on Lucas’ temple.

Lucas’ smile falters, just a little. For a second, he remember the words and he remembers the sadness and the pain, and his smile drops, if only for a little. They’re okay now, he tell himself. They’re okay and they’re in love and there’s nothing to worry about, truly.

His smile now feels a little forced.

He shakes his head and physically tries to dispel the doubt that now creeps into his every thought. It’s ridiculous and he knows it. Eliott loves him and he loves Eliott, and they’re going to be fine. They’re going to go back to normal and everything’s going to be okay because Lucas will get over it, he will. He’ll stop doubting Eliott’s words, because this is fucking ridiculous and he knows Eliott, knows the way he loves, feels it.

He presses a quick chaste kiss to Eliott’s lips and starts getting ready for the day. Elliot gets up not long after and answers Lucas’ questioning gaze, “I switched shifts remember?” and explains he’ll be home later than usual today.

When Lucas kisses him goodbye before leaving, he doesn’t let himself lean into the kiss. It’s a quick press of the lips and he’s off before it weighs in on them.

He spends the entire day chastising himself for his ridiculousness, repeating over and over that Eliott loves him, he does. And the thing is, Lucas doesn’t doubt that but the well of his insecurities is now open and he doesn’t really know how to close it up.

_What if Eliott gets tired of him? What if he finds someone better? What if Lucas is the next Lucille? What if, what if, what if?_

Lucas groans loudly enough to attract some annoyed looks from his classmates. He glares back long enough that they all look away and he slumps in his seat. He’s missed half the lecture overthinking already and if he keeps going he’s never going to retain anything.

When Lucas gets home, he feels so guilty for having thought so low of Eliott that he decides to cook diner. He manages to make a hefty portion of spaghetti but he also succeeds in spilling a good amount of sauce on his shirt and is reminded that this is why he does _not_ cook _._

He heads into the bedroom for a change of clothes and promptly freezes at the entryway.

The wall facing him is adorned by a myriad of post-its, all different colors, all glued on to the wall with the help of a lot of scotch tape. He immediately recognizes the hedgehog drawings and Eliott’s handwriting and instinctively takes a step closer. Right in the middle of the wall is a bigger piece of paper with a truly gigantic font:

**REASONS WHY I LOVE YOU (A NEVER-ENDING LIST)**

Lucas’ breath gets caught somewhere on the way up and he has to clutch the chair next to him in an effort to stay up.

_2\. Your laugh_

_107\. The way you hold yourself when you’re afraid_

_8\. That one piece of hair that always falls in your eyes_

_34\. Your morning breath_

_97\. The fact that you always wear mismatched socks_

_26\. The way you look at me_

_27\. The way you make me feel_

_48\. Your back muscles_

_1\. You_

Lucas hears the front door unlock and it’s all he can do not to scream out.

“Lucas?” Eliott calls out and soon enough he’s in the bedroom, standing behind Lucas.

Lucas can’t look away from the wall, he can’t stop looking at the drawings, can’t stop trying to read all of the post-its all at once. Eliott stands in silence for as long as he can manage before,

“I know you don’t like big declarations but—”

Lucas doesn’t give him a chance to finish his sentence as he practically throws himself on him. He clutches Eliott’s shirt and he’s not crying again because that would be embarrassing and okay, he _might_ be sobbing again. Eliott holds him with the same amount of force and doesn’t let go.

Lucas isn’t sure who initiates it but one moment they’re hugging and the next his lips are on Eliott’s neck and there are nimble fingers in his hair.

The travel back to each other’s mouths slowly, working their way up, piece by piece. When they finally collide, Lucas relaxes into the kiss and Eliott practically sighs. It’s slow at first, neither wanting to push the other too far but Lucas can feel Eliott’s body on him, and he’s never been a patient man. He swipes his tongue on Eliott’s lip, seeking entrance and Eliott fucking pounces.

Suddenly, all tenderness is gone. Lucas is nearly bent over backwards in the sheer attack of Eliott’s lips to his. Eliott is kissing like a starved man, and who is Lucas, truly, to refuse him. When he’s pushed against the wall it’s all he can do to let out a little _oomph_ before Eliott is on him again.

His shirt goes first, as it usually does with Eliott. Next, his jeans are unceremoniously shoved down and before Lucas can understand what is fully going on, Eliott is on his knees. The mere sight alone is enough to reduce Lucas to a panting mess and he digs his fingers into Eliott’s shoulders.

A touch to his hip, a gentle brush of lips against his inner thigh, a finger tracing him in his boxers. Eliott is playing with him.

“Fuck— Eliott, come on—” Lucas can see the smirk on Eliott’s face, as if his begging is only spurring him on and fuck, if that doesn’t make him an even bigger mess.

When Eliott starts idly tracing his tongue over the outline of Lucas’ cock, hands holding him in place, Lucas desperately tries to hold in his moans. He’s biting his cheek in an attempt to keep quiet, remembering all the complaints they’d gotten from their neighbors that first week they’d moved in, but Eliott won’t have it. Lucas’ boxers are gently pushed off and then Eliott’s mouth is finally on him.

Neighbors be damned, Lucas moans, loudly.

Eliott picks up the pace in no time, expertly swiping his tongue along the tip before taking him all in, fast and then slow. He’s pulling in all the stops, one hand at base of Lucas’ cock and the other grazing his balls. He suddenly pulls at them and Lucas has to bite his lips not to scream. Lucas is already overwhelmed, so close to coming already and a blowjob against the wall simply won’t do, at least not today.

He’s pulling Eliott up, seeking his mouth and shoving his tongue in to taste himself. They both moan and Lucas brings Eliott as close as he can, feels the hard outline of his cock in his jeans.

They both groan at the sensation and Eliott drops his head against Lucas’ temple to regain his breathing.

“Not that I’m complaining,” Eliott whispers into his ear, “But why do you smell like tomato sauce?”

Lucas laughs, high and loud, and brings him in for another kiss. Eliott grips his waist almost painfully, bringing them flush against each other again.

Lucas is suddenly grateful for the wall behind him because Eliott is sucking a mark into his collarbone and he can feel his knees trembling threateningly. He retaliates by pulling Eliott’s hair, eliciting a high whimper and an almost uncontrollable push forward.

Lucas is close to begging when Eliott finally pushes Lucas’ boxers fully down along with his jeans. Lucas is then unceremoniously shoved onto the bed and Eliott’s clothed body is covering his naked one.

“Baby,” Eliott whispers as he strokes Lucas’ hair, “I need— fuck, I need you to— I need—”

Lucas doesn’t need telling twice and pushes Eliott onto his back. He undresses him slowly, in direct contrasts with the urgency he feels in his bones, and makes sure to keep eye contact the entire time.

By the time they’re both blissfully naked, Eliott is a moaning, whimpering mess and Lucas is sure he’ll have bruises tomorrow, where Eliott is holding him by the hips. Lucas teases him a bit more by leaning down and rubbing himself over Eliott, which is when Eliott fucking snaps. He flips them over so fast it leaves Lucas heaving.

“Enough.”

And boy, does Lucas like it when Eliott is pushed over the edge. Quickly enough there is a lubed up finger rubbing against his prostate and a second one joins not long after. Eliott is relentless, his fingers pushing in and out, maintaining a hard rhythm.

“Eliott, Eliott, Eliott,” Lucas is basically screaming into the crook of his arm, and he truly doesn’t know if he’s asking to come right now or if he wants Eliott inside him. Thankfully, Eliott makes the decision for him and pulls a condom from the nightstand.

When he finally settles inside Lucas, they’re both breathing hard and trembling and Eliott leans in for a kiss that is anything but gentle.

“Move, move right now or I’ll—”

Lucas doesn’t have the chance to finish his sentence because Eliott is pulling out only to push back in harder, and he loses all semblance of speech. Lucas’s legs are tight around Eliott and he might be painfully dragging his nails along Eliott’s back, but fuck if he can bring himself to care.

Eliott’s thrusts get erratic and rough, and Lucas is so close, he just needs—

“I love you.” Eliott’s whisper is low but clear.

Lucas comes so hard, he barely notices Eliott coming right after him.

-

The next morning is spent in lazy blowjobs and shower sex, and Lucas can’t stop staring at the wall every time he’s in the room.

  1. _Your (our) grey hoodie_



They eat in bed and Lucas tries to convince Eliott to try the spicy sauce on his eggs. Eliott refuses but kisses him deeply enough he must know what it tastes like.

  1. _You uprooted my whole life, in the best way possible_



Eliott seems unable to stop kissing him, on the lips, on the nose, on his eyelids.

  1. _Your piano playing_



Lucas also can’t keep his hands off Eliott and it might be sappy how much they’ve missed each other in the past couple of days.

  1. _The fact that you can’t reach a top shelf to save your life (and that you always call me for help)_



Eventually Lucas has to get ready for school and it’s a whole other disaster trying to get dressed while Eliott is glued to his back, pestering him with kisses. He finally manages to leave when the promise of movie night is made and Eliott is banned from preparing _any_ food in the kitchen.

Lucas feels light as a feather the entire day, and feel even better when he comes home to burnt popcorn and Eliott in his grey hoodie waiting on the couch.

-

“Love you,” Eliott yells into the apartment as he leaves for his shift.

Lucas hurries out of the bathroom to see him off but he’s gone faster than Lucas can dry his hands. It’s a behavior Lucas has been noticing a lot in the past couple of weeks: Eliott mumbling a quick _I love you_ before leaving somewhere but leaving so fast that he doesn’t give Lucas the chance to say it back. Or does he think Lucas simply won’t say it back ?

Either way, Lucas has been trying to figure out a way to get past it. Sure, he could just blurt it out at any point but it seems more important than that. It feels significant and Lucas can’t stop smiling every time he sees the pill calendar hanging on the fridge, still. They doing so good and Lucas feel better than he has in a while, and it just feels important enough not to be blurted out.

It’s a Saturday, demo day at work, which is Lucas’s favorite part of his job. He gets to show aspiring artists the wonders of an instrument, the beauty behind every key and he gets the chance to watch their eyes illuminate. He loves showing off the guitars, enjoys watching people let loose on the drums and laughs seeing customers puff their cheeks into a saxophone. All the same, the piano remains his favorite.

Allowing people to feel the music spread from their fingers through the rest of their body is something Lucas never tires of. Feeling one with a song is an experience he wants to give to everyone, even if it is just for a single second. For Lucas, it is rare to find a feeling close to the one of melting into a piano and closing your eyes to the sounds of music.

He thinks that’s part of the reason Carla hired him all those months ago. She’d asked what his favorite instrument was and when he had vaguely mentioned the piano, she’d pushed him on.

_Why did he like the piano specifically? Did he play? How did he learn? Who taught him?_

He’d went on a rant about everything his mother had taught him. The way music used to unite them, how she used to light up when they played together. How learning the piano is one of Lucas’ most cherished memories of his childhood. Of course, he hadn’t mentioned that his mother stopped playing when his dad left or that she had broken their piano during a fit or that she hadn’t played since. How he had only played once since she stopped, and how even then it had felt like he was naked and raw.

Carla however must have seen something in him, in the way he talked about music, because she had hired him on the spot. He still hasn’t played since that afternoon at Eliott’s, but he likes to think that teaching others is enough for him. He’s gotten used to pushing away any feelings of longing for music, even when he’s quite literally surrounded by it.

When Lucas gets to work, the instruments are set up and there are already a few people wondering around. The next few hours pass in a blur as he and the other workers do their best to teach and show. He manages to sell three pianos just by talking about them and Carla breezes by him with a smile.

“If your words can do that, imagine how many pianos you would sell by playing,” she comments briefly before leaving for the night, trusting him to clean and close up.

He stops short at her remark. She had asked him before to play during demo days, but had never pushed when he gently refused. Every so often, she’d mention it again but Lucas knew she would never force him to play. Carla was too close to music to not understand the complicated relationship one had with their instrument. She knew he had a block, and she knew not to talk about it, but she always managed to remind him how much he really did miss playing.

Lucas shakes it off, or tries to anyway. He passes the broom, puts the instruments back in their places, counts the cash, closes the register, dusts the windows and turns the lights off. He’s all set to go, bag on his shoulder and one foot out the door, but he abruptly gets rooted in place. He feels dumb standing in the middle of a darkened music shop, not moving and having a staring contest with the old piano in the corner, but he suddenly can’t just leave.

He drops his bag with a sigh even though no one can hear him and sits heavily in front of the piano. He’s mad he can’t leave, mad he sat down but mostly mad because he’s afraid.

He’s terrified.

His fingers graze the keys and a note breaks the silence of the room. He tests out a few keys, just to hear them and he’s instantly transported to that day with Eliott. The first time he’d played for anyone other than his mother.

The memory of that day has his fingers flying to the familiar keys. His mother’s favorite song. His favorite song. The song that had made him feel loved and seen and—

Before Lucas knows it, the sounds of music are filling the room. His mind clears and the surroundings disappear, there is only him and the piano. This old, dusty piano in the corner of a small music shop where he works before going back home to the love of his fucking life. This old, dusty piano that is slightly creaking at being used after so long in a forgotten corner. This old, dusty piano that might be a little off-key but is making him feel so much.

He closes his eyes and the piece comes to a close.

“I forgot.”

Lucas jumps and turns around so fast his neck settles at an uncomfortable angle. Eliott is somehow there, standing in the shop, staring at Lucas.

“I forgot what you looked like when you play.” Eliott says and comes sit next to Lucas, bumps their shoulders together, “It’s the same piece, right? Like the first time?”

Lucas can only nod, overcome by such sudden emotion he doesn’t know whether to laugh or to cry.

“Fuck, Lucas. That first time you played, I— you just had me,” Eliott brushes away a piece of Lucas’ hair and smiles brightly at him, “You never seize to surprise me, you know that?”

Lucas kisses him, he can’t help it.

“What are you doing here?” he whispers, curiosity getting the better of him.

“Oh, thought we could go for some diner outside. Maybe catch a movie. Came to pick you up for a proper date, like a gentleman and all.”

They both laugh and Lucas is so in love and he can’t it hold it back any longer when it finally strikes him.

“Did I ever tell you what that piece was called?”

Eliott looks up and shakes his head.

“I love you.”

-

It’s their song now.

**Author's Note:**

> can you tell that the Skam piano scene is the date of my death? Truly words cannot describe how much i love that scene and how much it means to me.  
> Also, for those of you who don't know the song Lucas played in that scene is literally called "I love you" (by Riopy seriously check him out the guy is hella talented)  
> boi tho Lucas was in love from the very start, our boy fell early and HARD  
> much love and a gentle reminder that kudos and comments are my saving grace


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